Attitude Sadie clicked in and snapped, “What’s funny now?”

I watched as he began to lose the fight with his hilarity.

“You,” he answered.

“What’s funny about me?” Attitude Sadie asked sharply.

“Everything, mamita,” Hector informed me, his eyes still lazy, his smile blazing white, Attitude Sadie having no affect on him at all, whatsoever. “You’re hilarious,” he added.

My eyes narrowed. “I am not hilarious. Especially not at six o’clock in the morning before I’ve had my coffee,” I retorted then, for some bizarre reason, I ranted on. “No. Wait. Never. I’m never hilarious. So, for the last time, stop laughing at me,” I finished on a haughty demand.

“Lover’s spat.” I heard Luke mutter and he sounded amused too. My eyes moved to him upon the unwelcome reminder that we had an audience and embarrassment edged Attitude Sadie into the background as Luke continued, “Time to go.”

Both Luke and Vance were still smiling. Luke’s half-smile had changed to engage his whole mouth and I tried not to look because, at the glance I caught, I knew a good look would definitely get me into trouble.

I decided to attempt to switch to New Sadie because Attitude Sadie was making me the laughingstock of the Hot Bunch.

Apparently everyone thought I was hilarious (except me).

“It’s not a lover’s spat. I just need coffee,” I informed them, trying to sound casual and like I often wandered around in pajamas in a kitchen full of handsome men after a night of sex and a mini-attitude-rant.

Still going for casual and confident, I pulled out of Hector’s arm and went to the coffee. I yanked out the pot, turned and held it up to the boys, asking sweetly, “Warm up? Luke? Vance?”

This gesture, for some reason, produced more amused looks.

Now, really, was it me?

What was so darned funny about offering coffee?

Finally, putting his mug down, Vance said, “Thanks, Sadie, got shit to do.”

Luke followed suit.

I wondered what “shit” they had to do at six o’clock in the morning.

Did these guys ever sleep?

I thought about asking the Rock Chicks, obviously they would know then I decided I didn’t want to know because their answers might scare me.

They said their good-byes, so did I, and Hector followed them to the front door.

I made myself coffee and tried to get my thoughts in order so I didn’t make an even bigger fool of myself.

I had no practice with this kind of situation, waking up after a night of sex and a nocturnal visit from the Zano Family only to find early morning casual company in the form of friends.

Who, I wondered, did? Except Hector, of course, if the last couple of days were anything to go by, this seemed normal for him.

My thoughts were nowhere near ordered (but my coffee was ready) when Hector came back into the kitchen.

I’d turned and leaned against the counter, the mug was mostly to my mouth, when, in another Smooth Hector Move, he got close, pulled the mug out of my hand and placed it on the counter beside me.

“Hey!” I said, looking at my coffee mug. “I was drinking that!”

My head moved around and, before I knew what was happening, Hector kissed me.

It wasn’t a soft, sweet, morning kiss.

It was a fiery, hungry, urgent kiss and, apparently unable to fight it (though, I had to admit, I didn’t try), I melted on the spot.

It went from kissing to kissing and groping and then Hector pulled his flannel shirt off my shoulders and it fell to the floor. His hands went into my camisole at the sides then up my back, trailing heat everywhere they went.

I followed suit, putting my hands up his t-shirt at the back, my fingers roving his hot skin.

All of a sudden, his mouth disengaged, he stepped back and grabbed my hand, turning and dragging me behind him.

I should have said something but I had to concentrate on running to keep up with his long strides. At the stairs, he took them two at a time, pulling me behind him.

Not surprisingly, I stumbled. He turned and caught me, lifting me up, an arm at my waist, one at my knees, he spun and my legs went flying as he hitched me more safely in my arms.

He walked directly to his bedroom and tossed me on his bed.

Yes, tossed me on his bed!

At this, I felt my ni**les go hard and tingles flew through my body on a beeline between my legs where I felt an immediate, delicious wetness invade.

I watched, my breath coming fast, as he tore off his shirt.

I decided to follow suit and tugged off my camisole as he watched while undoing the top buttons of his jeans.

Once I tossed my camisole to the side, he leaned over, put one hand to the bed and the other arm slanted across my waist and he yanked me up, my back arched, his mouth came down on my nipple and, without leading into it, he sucked deep.

“Oh God,” I breathed, pretty certain sure I was going to cl**ax on the spot.

Instead, my hands went to the drawstring of my pajama bottoms and I tugged it. Hector’s mouth left me, he yanked down my bottoms, taking my panties with them and then shoved me back to the bed.

My behind hit the bed, I kicked off my clothes but leaned forward, my fingers coming up, I undid the rest of the buttons on his jeans and pulled them all the way down.

And I saw him, right there, in front of me.

And I liked what I saw.

And I wanted it.

And it was f**king well my turn to explore.

So I scooted to the edge of the bed, head tilted back to look up at him, his eyes blazing into mine, I wrapped my hand around him and took him in my mouth.

“Dios mio,” he groaned then he said more stuff in Spanish, his fingers diving into my hair, pulling it away from my face and holding it behind my head in his fists.

He let me explore, let me taste him for what felt like a nanosecond (but was probably longer, it was just that I liked what I was doing and I knew Hector did too which made me like it all the more) then his hands went under my armpits, lifting me clean up into the air. My legs wrapped around his waist, my arms around his neck and then he went forward, I went back, both of us landing on the bed.

Before I had a chance to get used to our new position, he was inside me and not like last night. This was different, harder, rougher, not in either of our control and therefore shocking in its intense beauty.

He pulled my legs up at the knees until they were tucked against his sides and he kept slamming into me, one of my arms wrapped around his back, the other hand in his hair.